Falling to Pieces
by QuietWalker
Summary: The Guildpact is falling apart and the Guilds are growing restless. War is on the horizon, and the Speakers can do nothing but watch. Rating T: potentially might be M later, but most likely not. Rate and Review, if you like. Fair Warning: Much perspective jumping in later chapters. Mainly original characters, simply set in Ravnica.
1. Chapter 1

New Prahv, 5:14 P.M. 3rd moon, 14th day.

In a room set off from the main areas of the Azorius Guildhall sat a rather odd assortment of people. With several in seats, a few standing, and two or three simply lingering, the whole place reeked of tension.

Another took to his feet, angry words spilling from his lips.

"This is nothing more than pure insanity!"

A fist was slammed down on the long, round table. The cavernous hall reverberated with first that sound, then with the low, hollow laughter of Sanguine.

"Insanity, my dear Forte?" asked the Cult Leader, leaning back insolently in his chair, tilting his head to one side, his red eyes glittering with avarice. "Then I'm doing my job juuuust right."

The Lawmage gritted his teeth, his hand twitching towards his weapon as he sat back down, his blue eyes narrowing as he glared at the Cult Leader. Seemingly, he thought better of challenging the Cult Leader, and he finally broke the eye contact.

Again, Sanguine laughed. The keening laugh of the insane split the tense air of the Meeting Hall, and the others shifted in their seats. The Cult Leader finally choked down his laughter to the occasional snort, and his chair legs hit the ground once more.

"Well, there's a grand surprise. This is pointless. Technically, we don't exist. Can we go now?" came another voice, from the darkened corner of the room. Her black hair shrouded her face, but the one blue eye that was visible was locked on the lawmage.

"And," she continued. "It's not like anyone even values anything we have to say. Again, this is pointless. Can we go?"

Forte favored her with a very ill-natured glance, before shaking his head. "I'd rather not have you two Dimir agents here, but the rules are the rules…" he said irritably, shaking his head.

"Ah, why not let the little sub-humans go? They're a waste of space anyway."

"Oh, look, there goes the Orzhov puppet again," the same woman continued, brushing her hair back behind her ear as she rolled her eyes. "Yapping on and on about the Holy Church of Orzhova!"

"Don't disgrace the name of the Church with your tongue, you rat!"

A knife bloomed in the woman's hand, but a hand on hers stopped it. "That's enough, Luciana. Is he worth the stain?"

"…No, I suppose not…" she said, tucking the curved blade back, before shaking her head and leaning back against the pillar once more.

The screech of a chair being pushed back broke the tense silence once more. The same man- the Orzhov priest- had stood up, favoring the two in the shadows with a rather dark glare. As soon as he stood up, the girl next to him tugged on his sleeve but he shook her off.

"And what of you, Nocte?" he said harshly, his grey eyes sweeping over the man next to Luciana. "The thief in the night? The worthless agent?"

Immediately, the other man's eyes flashed with anger as he took a step forward. Luciana sighed, shutting her eyes and seeming to vanish into the shadows that cloaked the room. Nocte crossed his arms over his thin armor, and raised an eyebrow.

"Are you that idiotic, Sol? That foolish? Or are you simply that blinded by your worthless anger?" Nocte inquired quietly.

The priest's eyes narrowed further. "You dare go against that which is perfect? Immortal, even? You're nothing but a rat in the sewers, and we will dispose of you as such."

"A rat? Perhaps so, but a rat that could destroy your precious church in a day's time. Wriggle in through tiny passages, destroy everything…"

"That's enough!" came yet another voice. The chair from behind her fell as she pushed it back, her armor catching the light in a way that the insignia of the Boros Legion was illuminated. "The two of you are like bickering children!"

"She can say that again," Luciana muttered to the white haired girl who was sitting next to Sol's abandoned seat.

"Shh, they'll hear you."

"Ah, I'm already dead by the Orzhov, Selene. May as well enjoy it while I can, no?"

"Oh, come on, Sol won't kill you. He doesn't like getting blood on his hands."

"That's comforting," the agent replied, shaking her head and rolling her eyes a little. "Really, Selene. Comforting to the highest degree."

"Who are you to talk, Nexius!" came Sol's much louder voice as he turned from the Dimir agent to face the angel. "You, who bickers with the Azorius on a daily- no, hourly- basis?"

Luciana chuckled, leaning into Selene's ear and muttering, "He shouldn't be talking. Hypocrite much?"

Selene laughed, pushing Luciana away from her playfully. "Ah, you shouldn't be talking either. You're Dimir filth, remember~?" she joked, covering her mouth to stifle the laugh that streamed out.

Nexius looked at the two girls- one on the table, the other leaning on the table with her elbows, and shook her head. "Either way, Sol, I may talk. I am not like you; shackled to a guild which eliminates all and any sense of free will."

Sol shot Luciana a glare of the highest degree of ill nature. "Get away from her," he said lowly, before looking back to Nexius. "Hah! You are as shackled as any of us- no, more so."

The shink of a sword being drawn cut the air once more, as Nexius leveled the weapon across the table at the priest. "Give me a reason to, priest. Though, it doesn't matter right? You'll come right back, yes?" the angel asked. "Still, it would make me feel a bit better to not have to hear your irritating voice for the time being."

Silence grew long, and tense, as the two stood there and contemplated. Finally, the Priest relented and turned, crossing his arms as he did so. His seat had been taken by Luciana, who was now talking to Selene in hushed undertones, and the man looked on the verge of walking out.

"Now, then, can we get something done? Really, I have about fourteen experiments running, and if they explode, it's going to be very unpleasant for everyone involved, let me tell you," said a woman sitting on the end of the table.

"Feh. Iridium, your experiment's will level the city regardless… Which is why, my dear, I wanted to work with you until you so cruelly turned me away…" Sanguine said with a dark smile and a chuckle. The Cult Leader had been quiet for quite some time, actually, and it was unnerving.

"Uninclined though I am to agree with one who destroys nature, I must say, I'm quite curious to know why we're all here. It's been a while since we all had to meet like this… Lady Trostani was quite worried when we received our note."

"Iridium, we will be done in time for you to prevent your insanity from leveling the city. Terra, I was getting to that before Sol threw a fit. Luciana, give him his chair back."

"Forte, when have I ever listened to you?" the woman shot back, her feet up on the table and a knife in one hand as she flicked dirt out from under her nails. "You're boring, and I don't listen to that which bores me."

"Put that away and take your feet off the table. Pay attention."

Forte took a breath and waited for the assassin to do just that- albeit grudgingly. Gathering his thoughts, he dove into what he had to say.

"Sanguine, you're aware of what you're doing, no doubt. It has come to our- the Senate's- attention that your Cult has been…"

"Having too much fun, have we? Ah, that's a shame. You old Azorius spoilsports really can't do much about though, can ya?" piped up the woman sitting at Sanguine's side. "Just cause you all can't have fun doesn't mean ya gotta spoil ours!"

"That's enough Malum!" Forte shouted, his eyes flashing with cold, hard anger. "As I was saying. The Cult of Rakdos is kindly requested by the Azorius Senate to stop the… Riot Festivals they've been having."

"Alright, back up," Luciana cut in. "You called all of us here to say your idiotic group is worried about Rakdos?" she pushed the chair back, purposely knocking it over as she stood. "What a waste of time. Come on, Nocte. We're going home."

On her way out, she shot Sol a devilish smile. He responded with a rather dark glare as he picked the chair back up. Waiting until the Dimir assassin was out of earshot, he crossed his arms and began to speak.

"Idiot though Luciana is, she makes a decent point. Why are all of us here? My sister and I could be preparing for Mass…"

"Do you ever worry about anything else?" Iridium asked quietly. "All you whine about is church this and church that…"

About to retort angrily, the priest was cut off by a loud cracking going through the air. Forte had- yet again- slammed his fist down on the table.

"ENOUGH!"

Dead silence went over the room.

"If you eight- err, seven- don't care about the fact that we are facing a planar-wide war…" Forte began, settling himself. "Sanguine, tell us. Why are you cultists doing this? To please your fickle master?"

"Hm? Oh." the Cult Leader cleared his throat, before chuckling. "Lord Rakdos demands, and we are merely his servants."

Forte shook his head, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Either way, if you continue, you look at breaking the new Guildpact." Pausing in his speech, the Lawmage shook his head briefly. "I'm fairly sure none of us want that."

"Well," Selene began hesitantly. "I-if I may speak, I don't think the Guildpact is doing much as it is. I'm fairly sure it's already broken and-"

"I'm fairly sure we don't care," Malum cut in, shaking her head back in mockery of the Lawmage.

"… We're not getting anywhere Forte," came a more sensible voice, as the owner of said voice raised her head from the table. "Can we just adjourn this, let the Rakdos do whatever they will since they will anyway, and go home?"

"Much as I'd love to say we could, Meia, we can't," Forte muttered, frowning.

At the far edge of the table, opposite Iridium, yet another voice cut through the rising chaos as Sanguine began to berate Forte and his sister.

"Can we knock this off already? It's pointless. You will do what you will, and the rest will do what they will," spoke a black haired woman, pressing a finger to her temple. "It was a matter of time 'till the Pact was broken, and it's come about now."

"Renovamen has a point…" Iridium piped up, looking out one of the myriad windows as Sanguine stood up rather violently.

"You've wasted enough of my time, Forte, my dear. I don't like wastes of time. I think I'll do what I want to~. Life's supposed to be fun, right?"

He clapped his hands together sharply, and his red eyes glinted in the fading light streaming through the windows. Looking out them and falling quiet for an odd amount of time. Walking to the window- with Malum close behind him- a smile crossed his face.

"Look at it~. It's so perfect and innocent. I hate it!" he spun, grinning madly. "And it'll all burn. Have a nice night!"

Walking out merrily, he and Malum left. Before the door shut, a clear giggle was heard from Malum, and Forte felt a shiver go up his spine.

"Meeting adjourned?" Terra asked timidly, brushing back green hair with the heel of her hand. "Unless you had something else-?"

"Everyone, sit down please," the Lawmage answered, shutting his blue eyes in displeasure and irritation. "A few more things and we can all forget this happened."

Silence fell over the room, and Forte rubbed his forehead absently, sighing before he broke into speech.

"With all that's going on, I wouldn't be surprised if the Guild Leaders declare war on everyone that isn't them. We, as Speakers, should be worried. If war can be staved off, we'll have to do everything in our power to do so. Meeting adjourned."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1: Iridium Somnolence

7:15 p.m. 3rd Moon, 14th Day

Heading out from New Prahv, the Izzet woman wrapped her white coat tighter around herself as she hurried back to Nivix. Cursing quietly to herself, the wind nipping at her heels, she walked as quickly as she possibly could.

As if to add insult to injury, about a block away from Nivix, it started to pour rain. Nearly slipping in the rain, Iridium pulled her coat above her head and ran on, crashing into the Izzet Guildhall a moment later. Soaking wet, she shivered and pulled her shoes off. One of her attendants- the one she stationed at the door for such nights as these- wordlessly handed her a blanket, a towel, and a change of clothes.

Wrapping the towel around her hair, then the blanket around her shoulders, she nodded her thanks as she took the change of clothing and took the stairs two at a time. As she passed each floor landing, more and more fantastical experiments assailed her eyes and ears. Even her nose wasn't left out, as a few particularly odd experiments were working with progressively stranger materials for weirds.

Rubbing her hair with the towel, she smiled a little to herself as she stepped into her own room. The pleasant warmth of several burners wafted against her face, and she carefully shut one of them off. The solution on top whistled as the flame below shut away and she nodded. Picking up the clipboard next to it, she dipped a quill into some ink and began to write.

_Day 4. _

_After being on a constant boil for nearly ten hours, the solution has turned a peculiar shade of red. Clear red. It bubbles slightly as I write this, frothing lightly as well. Not sure why, as of yet, but tests are commencing as of- _Iridium checked the clock nearby. _-9:02 p.m. _

She placed the clipboard aside, taking out a long, thin, metal instrument and sticking it into the liquid. The glass vial clinked as she stirred, and the liquid hissed against the metal. For a moment she worried the liquid had gone acidic and was eating through the stirrer, but she brushed the thought away. As she stirred, her mind cleared slightly.

Outside, she could see a large flame blossom then die. Seemed the Rakdos were up to a Festival already. No doubt led by Malum and Sanguine… She sighed, listening to the gentle clink of metal on glass. The hiss of flames. The murmurs of other scientists a floor, two floors, three floors down.

The stars and moon outside glittered away and Iridium pulled the metal rod from the tube. It was acid eaten and she flicked it away to join the rest of the mess in her small room. She sat down next to the counter where her alchemical equipment was placed.

A small frown crossed the heterochromic woman's face, and she leaned her elbows on the counter and sighed deeply. Resting her head on one of her hands, she looked out the window absently. Flames were born and died, and screams intermingled with the insane chants of the Rakdos.

As if she was unable to bear the noises, Iridium stood up and slammed the window shut. She drew the curtains and sighed, rubbing her forehead and closing her eyes. The sounds were muffled now, and she could only really hear them if she tried to. A welcome respite. Dipping her quill back into the ink, she penned down another few lines.

'_Liquid has turned acidic. Ate away at stirring utensil- Note to self: get a new one. Seems to be turning gaseous as well. Does not seem to be harmful as of yet. Will allow liquid to sit overnight, off heat.' _

Iridium signed her name underneath, carefully dotting the i's in her name and then rolled up the parchment her report was on. She stretched, yawned, and pulled off her lab coat. The burner underneath her experiment flicked off at a twitch of her finger. Rubbing her eyes, she tossed her coat away and flopped onto her bed, pulling the covers up over her wet hair. Letting her eyes close, she huffed into the warm comforter and the thin sheets. She fell quickly into a sleep, confused and muddled by a strange dream.

_Flames dance. Something chases after me, and I get the sense that it's huge and that if it catches me, it spells my death. What is it? A demon? Rakdos himself? I dare not look back, I dare not spare a single step in my running. I get the sense that whatever's chasing me, with its hot breath full of avarice, is waiting for me to foolishly look back. _

_Curiosity is the hallmark of being in Izzet, the hallmark of being a Scribemage. Who can blame me for slowing in my pace and looking back for only a second? What folly, what folly. The massive demon, bleeding and chained to a Bloodwitch, surges closer and closer. Flames cut off my escape as I turn to run, and it's a quick moment before the demon's maw opens and I'm presented with a view of its teeth and the back of its throat._

_A scream rends my throat._

Iridium awoke in a cold sweat, with her blankets thrown in a heap around the room. Sitting up in her bed, she ran a shaking hand through her hair and let out a slow breath.

**/AN: Ohmigod I'm sorry this took so long but here it is, Chapter Two! Chapter Three will be written from the perspective of Meia, the Simic Speaker! Thanks for reading~.**


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